[ a superhero. for a long span of time, maybe so much steve had thought he wouldn't get an answer back, andyr's looking at that message, and trying to come to terms with it. all the rest of it fades, and he's just pushing that through his mind. and feeling the deepest guilt over it. ]
they got fucking short changed
[ i can't save them, i can't even save my goddamn self rings in his head, and you're selfish, you were never doing it for them. he'd thought, when he first got here, if he could just pull in posie, mikal, mal and kon, plus alva's kids, that'd be it. they could just stay and forget about home. still isn't sure he'd go back, if that offer was on the table. even with all his rage and indignation and spewing about revenge. if he could just make it all disappear, like it never happened.
but even that isn't possible, is it? ]
you know what i learned in hapsburg? [ a pause between messages, like he isn't sure he wants to continue, but does, nonetheless ] the one thing that's worse than not having something like freedom or family or happiness to begin with... is being born to it, enjoying it long enough to know just how good it is, and then having it ripped away.
[ it hurts, so goddamn much, every fucking day, to know what he lost, to have had it in his hands, and know that he'll never have it back. maybe pieces - maybe he'll be free one day, after mikal's war, if they even get that far. maybe he'll have a quiet place to live, a port nearby, be able to go where he wants and say what he wants and be what he wants.
but jehanne is still gone. his dad is still dead. so, so much of andyr, who he was, the dreams and hopes that he had, the innocence that was there, is ruined forever. even after the houses and the raids and all the rest, even if all of it stops, it still all lives on in his head, every day, and there's no purging that.
if the moira's taught him anything thus far, it's that he isn't fit to go back to a life like this. peaceful. the quiet of it leaves what's in his head far too loud. ]
no subject
they got fucking short changed
[ i can't save them, i can't even save my goddamn self rings in his head, and you're selfish, you were never doing it for them. he'd thought, when he first got here, if he could just pull in posie, mikal, mal and kon, plus alva's kids, that'd be it. they could just stay and forget about home. still isn't sure he'd go back, if that offer was on the table. even with all his rage and indignation and spewing about revenge. if he could just make it all disappear, like it never happened.
but even that isn't possible, is it? ]
you know what i learned in hapsburg? [ a pause between messages, like he isn't sure he wants to continue, but does, nonetheless ] the one thing that's worse than not having something like freedom or family or happiness to begin with... is being born to it, enjoying it long enough to know just how good it is, and then having it ripped away.
[ it hurts, so goddamn much, every fucking day, to know what he lost, to have had it in his hands, and know that he'll never have it back. maybe pieces - maybe he'll be free one day, after mikal's war, if they even get that far. maybe he'll have a quiet place to live, a port nearby, be able to go where he wants and say what he wants and be what he wants.
but jehanne is still gone. his dad is still dead. so, so much of andyr, who he was, the dreams and hopes that he had, the innocence that was there, is ruined forever. even after the houses and the raids and all the rest, even if all of it stops, it still all lives on in his head, every day, and there's no purging that.
if the moira's taught him anything thus far, it's that he isn't fit to go back to a life like this. peaceful. the quiet of it leaves what's in his head far too loud. ]